For Auld Lang Syne
by TheVelvetDusk
Summary: "One year had ended...one crazy, implausible, mind-boggling, hell of a year was now nothing more than history. Another year was taking its place, a new future unfolding before them..." {lyatt. post-S1. oneshot.}


_It's officially 2018, which means we will get new Timeless episodes THIS YEAR. CHEERS TO THAT. Here's a little NYE oneshot to celebrate :) The story is set sometime post-S1 & I still don't own Timeless even though that was totally on my Christmas list..._

* * *

He'd traveled nearly 500 miles up the coast, crunched a seven-and-a-half hour trip into something that was dangerously close to just six, broken countless traffic laws, and suffered one nasty leg cramp...all of that, just so he could stand around like a damn fool and watch her flirt with someone else.

His grip on the drink in his hand had already been too tight. He knew that, had mentally urged himself to relax several times over, yet he couldn't get his fingers to ease up in the slightest. Then a stupid confetti-filled balloon had smacked him in the face, another annoying woman was vying for his attention, and _goddammit_ they were standing even closer than before, weren't they? Was she touching his arm? Why was she touching his arm?!

Wyatt's cup buckled and cracked, instantly drenching his palm with a deluge of Scotch. He scrambled for a napkin on the bar top behind him and somehow managed to keep his shirt dry, but his dignity was far from unscathed.

The woman next to him - Cara? Cassie? - began to excuse herself as he spat out a few choice words. It wasn't his goal to be an ass to her, but good Lord, was it really that hard for her to see he was on a stakeout? She'd actually provided a decent bit of cover as he furtively tried to maintain a visual on the situation across the room, but he hadn't sought her out and he certainly hadn't encouraged her babbling small talk. He was a man on a mission and had never pretended to be anything else.

As Cara-Cassie dissolved into the crowd, someone else immediately took her place next to him at the bar, but this time it was a face that Wyatt was actually relieved to see.

"Hey, Rufus. Cool party. Thanks for scoring the extra invites."

"Sure man...but that's the worst lie I've ever seen you tell, and I should know. Usually I'm the terrible liar." Rufus wagged a finger as Wyatt began to protest, cutting him off before he could even get a full word out. "Can it. You're miserable and you're not hiding it well."

Rufus turned away to flag down a new drink for Wyatt, grinning like a maniac once he had a fresh one in hand. "Try to take it easier on this cup. I know they're just plastic and meant to be thrown away by the end of the night, but I won't know how to explain your unintentional Hulk-level strength to my buddy if you wipe out his whole stash of fake glasses before midnight."

He glared down into his Scotch, incapable of backpedaling his way out of such absurd behavior. "Maybe I should just go. That way I can spare the rest of the glasses and - "

"And spare your pride too?"

Wyatt's scowl intensified before tipping back his drink for a long gulp. "My pride is doing just fine."

"Translation: your pride got stomped on about forty minutes ago when you realized Lucy wasn't waiting around like a lost puppy, watching the door with baited breath so she wouldn't miss your grand entrance."

"Only a grade-A dick would expect that, Rufus. Is there something you're trying to tell me about myself?"

Rufus laughed off that scornful remark, shaking his head patiently from side to side. "You're not a dick, Wyatt, but if you disappear tonight without saying a word to her...well then, yeah, that might just escalate you from creepy lurker status to grade-A dick."

"I'm not lurking. I'm meeting new people. It's weird how we only hang out with each other all the time, you know? Who does that? The world is bigger than just two or three work friends."

" _Work friends_ ," Rufus reiterated with a deep chuckle. "Good one, Wyatt. You're on a roll tonight."

"Awesome." He drained the rest of his drink and set it back down onto the bartop, grateful to see that this one survived him just fine. "On that note, let me roll right out of here while I still have you laughing. See ya next year, man."

"He's just some random guy she met tonight, okay? She wants to be with you, I guarantee it, but neither of us were sure if you'd make it back in time."

"Lucy is allowed to talk to whoever she wants to talk to, so quit trying to - "

Rufus stepped in front of him, head inclined knowingly. "To what? To save New Years Eve for the both of you? Because that's all I'm trying to do."

Wyatt rolled his eyes and exhaled a weak laugh. "Don't you think you're being a little melodramatic? This isn't the Alamo or a castle full of Nazis or the Cuban Missile Crisis, all of which qualify as _actual_ emergencies, ones we've really dealt with in case you've forgotten. But this? This is a damn holiday party in present-day San Francisco. No one here needs to be saved."

"Oh how I wish that were true."

Against his sounder judgment, Wyatt found himself reaching for that mumbled piece of bait. "Is there something I should know about that guy, then? Are you trying to tell me that he's bothering her?"

Rufus hadn't been kidding when he'd declared himself a terrible liar. His eyes flashed wide as he stumbled upon that new angle, and he was a little breathless as he tried to spin it in his own favor, all of which was achingly obvious to Wyatt's discerning ears.

"Yeah, she uh...she's drowning over there, dude. That guy is totally boring her to tears, definitely coming on way too strong, and I think I saw him making a grab for - for, um - "

Wyatt glanced past Rufus and snorted at the very incompatible scene which was playing out from across the room. Lucy was laughing while adamantly nodding along with whatever that little parasite was saying to her, and then her hand landed on his arm _again_ as she began to respond with a huge smile adorning her face.

As a guy who was regularly on the receiving end of that same smile-with-an-arm-grab combo, Wyatt knew that her newfound admirer was one lucky bastard.

"Save it, Rufus," he muttered quietly, "she's having a good time. I'm not getting in the way of that."

"She missed you, Wyatt. All week she was...I don't know, just not herself. Even more not herself than usual."

Wyatt felt those words like a dull blade to the gut, but he was determined to stand his ground. "Rufus - "

"I mean it, alright? I'm dead serious. It was like she only made it through this weird-ass Christmas without her family because of you, but then you got called away the day after and you took something with you that Jiya and I just couldn't replicate. She was down, man. Her lo- "

"That's enough," Wyatt interrupted wearily. He'd already piled on plenty of guilt about having to go back to Pendleton out of the blue like that. He didn't need Rufus to lay it on so thick, not when he was a certified expert at punishing himself for such crimes.

Rufus was looking just as tired as he felt, though, and he wasn't giving up just yet. "No, it's not. You have to hear this before you take off. You need to know that she was out of it without you here. Her locket was like a damn appendage that couldn't be removed from her hand. We caught her staring at that picture like a hundred times in five days."

Wyatt waited in pained silence, hoping - no, _needing_ \- this flood of culpable emotion to stop raining down around him. He didn't speak until he was sure that he wouldn't overflow with frustration and undeservedly tear Rufus a new one, and even then, his reply was still dangerously stilted. "I didn't want to leave, Rufus. I didn't ask for that to happen. They call, I go. There's no choice in the matter."

"I know," he answered contritely, looking a little intimidated as he took a small step backward. "She knows that too. We all do. I wasn't trying to make you feel bad about it."

"Coulda fooled me," he grunted mercilessly.

"Got it, shutting up now. No more talking. Just me, looking fly at a party, shutting up and minding my own damn business."

Wyatt regarded him with a skeptically raised brow, not amused in the slightest when Rufus pantomimed the action of zipping his mouth shut.

Not even a full minute had passed before that stupid invisible zipper broke loose.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but the thought of Lucy ringing in the new year with a kiss from someone else is making you physically ill right now."

"I thought you were shutting up?" Wyatt growled out between gritted teeth.

"I'll take that as a big Y-E-S."

"I'm getting another drink."

Rufus inserted himself between Wyatt and the bar, his hands raised to his shoulders like two mini flags of warning. "Did you ever consider that even if the other guy is super fun and interesting and basically the most suave dude on the planet, he still wouldn't be able to compete with what she already has with you? You're her auld lang syne."

"Her _what_?"

"It's the song they always play when the ball drops on TV, man. _Auld Lang Syne_ , the official New Years Eve theme song? Tell me you know - "

"Yeah, yeah, the one no one under the age of 80 really knows or understands," Wyatt interupted in near exasperation. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Now Rufus was the one who was rolling his eyes in annoyance. "It means that we're toasting to the days gone by, you know? It's the idea of starting out the new year by paying tribute to the people and places who made the last one special."

"I'm not seeing how this has anything to do with - "

"It's fair to assume that you probably know Lucy better than any of us, which is certainly well enough to realize that the idea of kissing some guy who's basically just a stranger doesn't really seem like her style. But she's also very into tradition, right? Because tradition is like an extension of history and she enjoys all that sentimental crap, so she'll probably go along with it just because he's there and it's almost midnight, so why the hell not? She's had enough champagne to justify it at this point. And he's _definitely_ staked her out as the one he wants to make out with when the clock hits twelve, so - "

Wyatt was absolutely going to break something else, _anything else_ , if this excruciating speech didn't end soon. " _Rufus_. The point, please?"

"You don't want them to kiss. She'd rather kiss you anyway if she knew she had a choice. You're the one who's been there for her with the Amy stuff and the scary mom stuff and like a gazillion decades of shitty-ass history stuff. You guys have been through so much this year and you deserve to be together tonight. So here's the point in four words - don't screw this up."

Wyatt's eyes broke away from Rufus, straying over clusters of people and noise and decor to hone in on Lucy once more. Their second-hand party invite - courtesy of some college friend that Rufus still hung out with from time to time - hadn't come with any specific dress code, so naturally there was a whole range of attire, everything from ripped jeans and casual t-shirts to expensive suits and ridiculously ornate party dresses. Lucy's outfit had landed somewhere in the middle, a simple black shirt tucked into a figure-hugging skirt that was shimmering ever so softly in the flickering revelry of the party.

A _very_ figure-hugging skirt. One that was a little shorter than what she normally wore. A skirt that had him wishing for another round of brain-searing Scotch.

Wyatt had lost sight of the fact that Rufus was still standing there next to him until he was clearing his throat none too subtly.

"Look, I know this isn't a question of astrophysics or a dilemma with the time-space continuum, which means you aren't soliciting my advice. I'm the science-smart guy, not the relationship-smart guy. And maybe I'm reading this whole thing wrong...or maybe you really aren't ready to be with someone else yet, even if that person is as amazing as Lucy. Even so, you're way off the mark if you think she isn't dying to see you tonight. Five days may not be an eternity to most people, but I think the three of us know better than to take the passing of time - _any_ amount of time - lightly. Don't leave without at least saying hi."

Rufus clapped him on the back and began to retreat. He was several steps away before Wyatt could rally himself into answering, his voice unnaturally dry as he finally called out, "Hey, Rufus?"

"Yeah?"

"You're pretty relationship-smart too, buddy."

He shrugged indifferently, but he was smiling pretty broadly as he responded. "Trust me, it's a work in progress."

And then he was merging out into the growing mayhem of the makeshift dance floor, scanning the faces of passing partygoers rather intently. He was undoubtedly searching for Jiya, especially when the countdown to midnight was due to begin at any moment…

What was it Rufus had just said? That he was a work in progress? On that note, Wyatt could very much relate. Maybe it was time to stop the so-called work and just emphasize the part about progress instead.

He'd never cared much for the concept of New Year's resolutions, but this one felt like a no-brainer. It was time to quit making excuses. No more talking himself out of what was so frickin' obvious. He'd hated being away from her. Every day at Pendleton had seemed to stretch on and on indefinitely without having her there to tease him, to smile at him, to challenge him.

So why should they miss each other for another second? He'd driven up the coast like a madman just for the chance to spend this exact moment with her. Could he really let midnight come and go without finally holding her in his arms again?

He was already tunneling through an interminable knot of people when he heard it begin - "10, 9…"

He was close enough to touch her arm by "6."

She was whirling around to face him, eyes lit up in surprise, at the sound of "4."

"Wyatt! You're here!"

That gorgeous smile, her stunningly aggressive hug, the crush of soft dark hair against his cheek - it was a rush of everything that was just so intrinsically _Lucy_. This was why he'd been distracted for five straight days on that damn base, what he'd dreamt of every night of this torturous week, what he'd almost foolishly deprived himself of even when she was within reach at last.

"...2, 1. Happy New Year!"

Everyone around them was cheering and applauding. Confetti fluttered over their heads like a shiny, exuberant blizzard. Lucy's wannabe date was repeatedly calling her name without garnering a single response.

One year had ended...one crazy, implausible, mind-boggling, hell of a year was now nothing more than history. Another year was taking its place, a new future unfolding before them as they stood there with their arms locked around each other.

Lucy released him gradually, sweeping a scrap of confetti off of her nose and nearly yelling over the commotion, "I'm so glad you're - "

He didn't think, just moved instinctively, taking her face in his hands and bending down to kiss her in the midst of dozens of other kisses that were already taking place all around them. She gasped and stumbled into him, arms curving around his middle either in resignation to the kiss or to keep herself from falling over completely. And just when he was beginning to doubt this self-serving exhibition of true recklessness, the rapturous feeling of Lucy kissing him back finally kicked into gear, bulldozing right over any lingering bits of uncertainty. She tugged him closer and moved her lips against his until he was sure he was seeing stars.

"You know," she gasped out, looking a bit lightheaded as she gripped the front of his shirt in both hands, "one of these days it might be nice if you gave me just the tiniest bit of notice before you suddenly lay one on me like that."

"Why, so you have a chance to kindly shove me off before I can get away with it?"

She graced him with a rosy smile and shook her head slowly. "No. More like I'm sure I could do a whole lot better if I was adequately prepared for what was coming down the line."

Now he was smiling just as warmly as she was, the entire room shrinking down to just the two of them. "I can't imagine what _better_ would be like, but if the last two kisses are anything to go by, I'm afraid any improvement might just be the end of me."

One soft hand slid up from where it rested on his chest so that she could reverently stroke the side of his face. He leaned into her touch, his skin sizzling with the reminder of her doing this exact same thing after he'd kissed her in Arkansas, an awakening of breathtaking emotion and consuming desire firing on all synapses.

"I still can't believe you're here. When I didn't hear from you at all today, I - I just thought…"

She trailed off with a breathy sigh, her big brown eyes devouring his face like she hadn't seen him in years.

"Hey, Lucy?"

"Yeah?" she murmured almost inaudibly.

"This is your notice...I'm kissing you again, ma'am."

Her mouth soared with the momentum of a delighted grin, one that had him all the more eager to taste her lips again.

Wyatt was still sure that there was no such thing as a bad kiss from Lucy Preston, but this one nearly had him staggering to his knees. The depths of his loneliness from this past week - these past _years_ \- was replaced with a much deeper longing, one that was unmistakably reciprocated in each vivid caress from her mouth to his. Her arms tangled around him again, latching on so fiercely that his internal organs were essentially playing bumper cars with each other.

And that was when the familiar notes of _Auld Lang Syne_ floated on by, causing Wyatt to break contact for just long enough to chuckle to himself. For all he knew, Rufus could have made up that whole rambling explanation about what the song really meant, but for the first time in his life, Wyatt actually found himself humming along and pretending that he understood a damn word of it. He swung Lucy around from side to side and watched with a smirk as she tossed her head back in laughter. They swayed along to the music for several beats until the magnetic pull of her lips urged him back in for another kiss, one that she definitely seemed to anticipate even without a verbal announcement of his intentions.

With lungs screaming out for reprieve, they parted begrudgingly, arms still circled close and hearts beating feverishly in tandem.

"Sorry if I chased your date away."

"My…?" she blinked a few times before her mouth quirked upward in realization. "Oh. Him. That was definitely not a date."

"Oh, good to know," he hummed out as unassumingly as he could manage. "Might be a little late in the game, but for what it's worth, I was going to ask you to come here as _my_ date tonight… Well, at least that was the plan until I got orders from Pendleton."

"Really?" Lucy asked in a voice so high that it bordered on giddy.

"Really," he answered with a smile that quickly sobered as he reluctantly let the full truth seep out, "...as long as I didn't wuss out like a nerveless jackass, of course."

She dipped her head down to burrow her cheek against his shoulder, inhaling deeply as if committing him to memory. "I would have said yes, you know."

His smile flourished to life once more. "So what do you say now? Can we call this our first date of the new year?"

"As long as you promise that it's not our last," came her timid reply, face hidden from view.

"That's the easiest promise I've ever had to make."

Lucy raised her head from his shoulder, radiant hope coloring every inch of her expression. "So that's a yes?"

"That's a _hell yes_."

She kissed him again, broke away to check if he'd changed his mind in the last split-second, then went right back to kissing him some more once she was sure that he'd meant it. Wyatt twirled them around in another jubilant spin, then closed his eyes and sealed their foreheads together, grinning like an idiot as she joined in on the song's final chorus, singing sweetly for his ears only.

" _We'll take a cup o' kindness yet_  
 _For auld lang syne_..."


End file.
